Northern Attacking the Hiatus A collaboration
by SheaHeyKid
Summary: Moved this one to mtt. under the title First Dates, First Days. Most recent chapters are there. This is the collaborative effort of some creative folks from the Watercooler at
1. Chapter 1

Danny's was the kind of steakhouse you found in places like Scranton or Albany or Hartford, small East Coast burgs with big-city ambitions. So even though there wasn't a cattle ranch within a thousand miles, the place had a kind of cowboy motif that permeated every square inch, from its fence-post railings to the bison's head mounted over the fireplace.

Roy used to take Pam here on special occasions, like when he bowled 300 or on the second anniversary of their engagement. Chintzy chic, she thought of it, but she didn't dare mention that to Jim, whose idea it was they come here for their first date.

In fairness, it was the nicest place in town that didn't require a reservation. It was commencement weekend at University of Scranton, which meant most every hotel, motel and restaurant was booked. Only a call to his high school buddy Danny Corrigan, made while Jim was still 100 miles out on I-80, freed up a table so last minute. She didn't expect she'd be taking her eyes off him for a while anyway, so the décor was no matter.

"Let me get this straight," he said as he sidestepped the maître d' and pulled out her chair himself. "Dwight was in charge for what, four hours, and he painted Michael's office black, gave a lecture on Appalachian top soil and appointed you Assistant to the Regional Manager?"

"Secret Assistant to the Regional Manager," she corrected him, cocking her head a little to the right and half-smiling.

It was a throwaway look, the kind you usually don't notice on people. He'd never miss that look again, though. It was the look she gave him at Bob and Phyllis's wedding when he told her he liked the way she danced. This night would go better than that one, though.

"If the universe was fair, I would not be 300 miles away the day Dwight gets his first taste of real power," he lamented.

"What if the CIA was to bump up his security clearance?" she said.

"He might be needed on sewer patrol," Jim brainstormed. "You know, guarding against a terrorist attack from below."

"It's a dirty job," she said, almost giggling but at the same time aware just how easy this was. They could always talk. Whether they were conspiring against Dwight, complaining about Michael or just mulling their mundane jobs, it was always easy.

And then for so long it hadn't been anything.

Pam suddenly became aware that neither of them had said anything for—a minute? Longer? She wasn't sure. Jim was smiling at her, his eyes squinting slightly like he thought she was about to say something and wondered what she was waiting for. The waiter saved them from even a moment's awkwardness, though.

He'd ordered her the chicken marsala, her favorite though she couldn't remember that ever coming up in conversation. It didn't surprise her that he'd remember if it did. He ordered the strip steak. An hour later, they'd barely touched either. Instead, they talked.

They reminisced about times spent together and compared notes about their time apart. There were no taboo subjects or uncomfortable silences. Despite having so much to hash out, neither tip-toed around anything, whether it was Roy and Karen or the thousand hopeful moments since he'd returned to Scranton that had ended with words unspoken and opportunities missed.

He noticed the candle, inordinately tall for its holder when they first sat down, had shrunken to an uneven gob of wax with barely a flicker at its center. What little light it threw off in the muted dim of the restaurant managed to catch her eyes and sparkle in a way that he swore made his heart skip a beat. Or maybe it wasn't the candle.

As she related what those first few months were like for her after she called off the wedding, he felt a pang of regret in his stomach for leaving her like that. It melted away again as she told him about enrolling in art classes, decorating her new apartment or even singing at a bird funeral, which he understood with little explanation was done out of compassion for Michael.

"I think the waiter is trying to tell us something," she said.

"Something like, 'You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here?'" he replied, picking up the credit card receipt and putting it in his pocket as he stood up.

He took her hand as she rose from the chair. It was a tiny gesture, but at the same time the kind of treatment she could get used to. They walked to the door, which he opened for her with his right hand while still holding hers with his left. When they were outside, under the clearest sky she could remember seeing, he pulled her close to him and kissed her gently.

After a moment, he whispered to her, "Maybe we could go for coffee, talk some more."


	2. Chapter 2

**Part II in a multi-authored effort imagining Jim and Pam's first date.**

Jim noticed how lovely her hair smells as he waited for her response. He's noticed before, but now he didn't have to back away and pretend not to. It was almost intoxicating.

Pam hadn't said anything yet. He wondered if something could be wrong. He pulled back and noticed that her eyes were still closed. He whispered, "Pam?"

Pam looked up, a little dazed. She inhaled, exhaled, met Jim's gaze and said weakly, "Sorry. I wasn't quite ready to let go of that moment yet, ya know?"

Jim, caressing the back of Pam's arms, her hands still burning into his chest, whispered back, "Yeah, I know."

He leaned in and softly kissed her again.

Jim wondered if this was really happening. He was just with Karen the night before, hopelessly trying to feel something more for her than he did. And now, he's standing under the stars and kissing Pam. He wished it had been Pam in his hotel room last night.

Their lips parted. Pam took a shaky, deep breath and as if awaking from a spell, fumbled, "So you wanna go get some coffee, or something?"

Jim laughed. "Yeah. That's a good idea."

As they walked back to Jim's car, he took her hand in his. Pam wondered how something as simple as the touch of Jim's hand could generate such a wave of electricity throughout her whole body. She wondered if Roy had ever had that effect on her. Certainly not with just the touch of his hand, she decided.

She let her mind drift further. If the mere touch of Jim's hand, she thought, could make her feel like this, then what would it be like to- she shook the thought away. She couldn't think of such things now. It had only been a day since he had broken up with Karen. The smart thing to do would be to take it slow.

She watched Jim as he opened her car door. She studied him. She was glad they had left straight from the office, leaving him no chance to shave before their date. He had a 5 o'clock shadow that Pam found irresistible. Had she ever been more attracted to him than she was right then?

"You okay?" Jim asked, smiling and narrowing his eyes. "You seem deep in thought about something."

"Oh no, I'm not thinking. Well, I mean, no, everything is fine." Jim had caught her off guard.

"Hmm. Well, you know you can tell me anything, Pam." Jim said playfully.

Pam smiled but looked down, trying to hide what her face betrayed. She was blushing.

"Beasley, I would love to know what's going on in that head of yours right now, but we should probably decide where we're going first- unless, of course, you want to hang out in a parking lot in my fancy Toyota all night."

Pam considered this.

"Actually, spending the rest of our date in your car would still make this better than any date I ever went on with Roy." She was serious.

"No, Pam. No more talk of Roy and Karen tonight. This is…"

"…is a happy place," Pam finished. "Right, right," she laughed. "Sorry."

Jim is her "happy place", Pam decided. He always has been.

"So, as much as I like the ambiance of your car, there is a coffee shop on the corner across from my apartment building. I've never actually been there but I think it's open 24 hours."

"Sounds good. Point the way, Beasley."


	3. Chapter 3

Pam's apartment was only a few blocks away from the restaurant. It was almost 11:30. Pam couldn't remember the last time she had been out this late. Normally, she'd be lying on her bed, falling asleep as she read a book. But not tonight. She felt alive and very much awake tonight.  
"So this is where Fancy New Beesly lives, huh"  
Pam told him he might as well park in the parking lot of her apartment building rather than on the street by the coffee shop. He parked the car and got out to open her door, but she was already outside of the car when he got there. Jim remembered how Karen never used to get out of the car until he came and opened the door for her.  
"Yeah, I'm pretty much treated like royalty around here. I even have my own parking spot. See over there"  
Pam motioned with her hand and Jim spotted her car parked right in front of a sign that read "RESERVED- #302.  
"Wow, impressive…", Jim laughed.  
"Thank you. You don't even want to know what I had to do to get that spot. I had to do some things that made me not too proud of myself," Pam said shamefully.  
Jim laughed. "Yeah, especially after you found out that everyone gets their own spot, right"  
She laughed.  
"Right... see, this is why I need you around"  
Jim smiled and looked away. He knew she was joking but he wanted to replay Pam's "I need you" over and over in his head.  
Jim glanced over at Pam's apartment building and it excited him to think that this would become a familiar place to him soon.  
He took Pam's hand and led her across the street. He relished any opportunity he had to touch her. Even if just her hand. It was dark out save the light from the coffee shop and a distant streetlight.  
"I hear this place has the best coffee," declared Pam.  
"Oh yeah, who did you hear that from?" Jim teased.  
"Actually, see here? It's on their sign"  
"Ah, yes, "BEST COFFEE IN SCRANTON", Jim reads. "Irrefutable proof"  
They're laughing as Jim reaches for the door. He stops short.  
"What's the matter?" Pam asks.  
"It appears that your 24-hour coffee shop closed at 11:00," Jim replied.  
Pam's smile fades.  
"Oh shoot! I'm so sorry!" Pam genuinely felt bad. "I don't know what I was thinking…" "Well, that McDonalds over there is open 24-hours. I can see how you could get them confused…" Jim teased.  
Pam smiled and sighed, "Well, I'm sorry I had you drive us out here"  
"That's alright. At least I got to see where you live. And by the way, you owe me now for three blocks worth of gas," joked Jim.  
Pam laughed.  
Now there was an awkward silence. Neither one of them knew what to do next. Fearful that the night may be coming to an end, Pam broke the silence.  
"Listen, Jim… I don't drink coffee"  
Jim tilted his head quizzically. "So"  
"No, let me finish." Pam summoned up courage. "I don't drink coffee. When I said I wanted to get some coffee with you, I just wanted to be with you. I don't want you to go. Not yet"  
"I don't want to go yet," Jim said softly.  
Pam continued, "And I know this coffee shop is closed and I know my apartment is right over there but I just think that"  
Her eyes scanned the sidewalk as if the words she was searching for had scattered on the ground. Her courage was fading.  
"…I just think that we need to be careful and not rush into anything or do anything that we don't… well, it's not that I don't want to…it's just probably not a good idea"  
She was getting flustered. The hint of what could happen if she took him to her apartment was enough to derail any train of thought she had. What was she saying? Why was she talking?  
Although he enjoyed watching how adorable Pam was as she struggled to speak, he had mercy on her.  
"Pam"  
She looked up, grateful to be interrupted.  
"I want to see your apartment"  
"But I"  
"We can make some tea and we can talk," Jim assured.  
Pam smiled, giving up her defenses.  
"Would you watch a chick flick with me too"  
Jim laughed, "No. No way. You'd have to put out for me to do that." 


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4 - author: "Jake"

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Are you scared?"

"Yes."

"You're scared? Why?" Pam's eyes showed concern but her mouth was smiling.

"A small part of me thinks, when you open that door, I'm going to be greeted by Munchkins and the Good Witch of the North," Jim crinkled his brow with false anxiety. "Without my ruby slippers, I won't be able to get home."

"Well, it is a colorful place. But no little people."

Pam stood at the door with one hand on the knob. Jim looked down at her, his eyes scouring every detail of her face under the bright haze of the porch light. Her cheeks were glowing pink, connected across her nose by the lightest band of freckles. Her lips were soft--he knew how soft--and curved into a smile. Her eyes were deep and vulnerable. And smiling, too. So many times he'd looked into those eyes. A hundred times, a thousand times. But every time seemed brand new.

"Let's do it," he uttered.

"Okay," Pam said, "but there's no turning back." She pushed open the door and walked through. He followed her and closed the door behind him. Jim stopped there in the entryway and looked around.

"Will your servants take my coat?" Pam smiled at him over her shoulder as she headed toward the kitchen.

"Make yourself at home, Halpert. I'll put on the tea."

Jim tossed his coat onto the couch and walked into the living room. It was a small apartment with hardwood floors, crown molding and a large window looking out into the courtyard. The sofa was a deep green. It had blankets over each of its arms and knelt at the edge of a shaggy oval rug. Small but cozy. Pam-perfect, he thought. Under the window was a table with framed photos on it. Jim looked closer and saw a picture of Pam and her mother, another of her father and one more of the three of them posing in front of a colonial-style home. Nice. No Roy.

"So, first impressions?" Pam had taken off her coat and was standing behind him, clasping her hands together and bouncing ever so slightly on her toes.

"Seems nice," he replied and squinted at her. "But I'll reserve judgement until after I see all of it."

Pam's smile faded, "You mean all of the apartment, right? 'Cause the other stuff," she placed her hands on her hips, "you're gonna have to work for."

"Other stuff? I have no idea what you're talking about." Jim tilted his head in mock confusion. Pam reached out and took his hand. "C'mon," she said, "I'll give you the tour."

"Wait," Jim stopped her. "I have a checklist so I want to make sure I get the complete tour."

"What's on the list?" she asked.

"Um...I need to see your bedroom."

"Uh-huh."

"I need to sit on your bed."

"Okay."

"I need to see your high school yearbook."

Pam rolled her eyes, "Oh, right!" She started walking down the hall.

"C'mon, Beesly. It's only fair." Jim followed her.

As Pam reached her bedroom, she turned to face him. "Through this doorway lies a mystical land. Prepare to be amazed."

"Munchkins, right?"

Pam laughed and stepped into the room. She flicked the light switch. Inside was a large bed with a mission-style headboard, a matching wood dresser with mirror and, off to the right, a tall, narrow window hidden by wispy lace curtains. Under the window was a desk with a stack of papers on it. The walls had a violet hue and Jim couldn't tell if they were painted or if it was the color cast by the lampshade. Pam sat on her bed and watched as Jim looked around.

"Sit," she beckoned. Jim sat next to her. "Bedroom. Check. Sitting on bed. Check." He looked at her and smiled. A lock of hair had fallen over her right eye. He reached to push it aside when a whistle sounded in the distance. Pam stood. "Water's boiling."

Jim watched her skip through the doorway and then walked over to her desk. The stack of papers was her artwork. Still lifes of fruit bowls and pencil cups. Sketches of people sitting on a park bench and dogs playing. Watercolors of trees and a river. Jim chuckled to himself, embarrassed that he felt such pride for Pam. He placed the drawings down and glanced toward her dresser mirror. There, something caught his attention, something white and angular hanging from the corner. As he stepped closer he realized what it was.

One dove.

It was moving enough that she had sent him to New York with that yogurt lid. Moving, he thought. How about life-altering? That lid convinced him to withdraw his name from a corporate position that was easily his, breakup with his girlfriend and finally connect with his soulmate. Now, here was a dove from their office Olympic games that she had carefully preserved. "Wow," Jim said under his breath as he held the paper bird in his hand.

"There's more," Pam stated quietly from the doorway. She reached under her desk and pulled out a large shoe box. "I've saved almost everything."

Jim sat on the bed and opened the box. Inside was his life, a window onto his years with Pam in Scranton. There was a copy of Dwight's resume that he and Pam had altered, a picture of the two of them standing next to Jim's desk, the Valentine's Day card graced by Dwight's face that Jim had made for her. And there was everything he had given her in the teapot--the broken pencil, the hot sauce packet, the high school portrait. On and on it went. She had kept it all.

Jim felt heat in his chest and a weakness in his knees that made it hard for him to stand. But he did. And he faced Pam, placed his palm against her cheek and kissed her. It was warm. It was strong. It was electric. Like never before their lips met in perfect fusion, as if all the uncertainty, all the hesitation, all the barriers were gone. Finally, they released their grasp on each other simply as a way to keep from starting a fire. Their eyes remained locked.

"We're not in Kansas anymore," Pam whispered.


	5. Chapter 5

"Yearbook?" he said, scooting back on her bed.His hands sunk into the down comforter.She'd forgotten to turn on the light. The rectangle of light falling in from the doorway lit her bookshelf as she searched for her high school yearbook.Beneath the shadows, her walls seemed blank.Too blank for an artist.

"Here it is," she said, flipping through the high school portraits."Oh my God, I'd forgotten what it looked like.I – I can't show you this," she said, laughter shaking her shoulders.

"Oh yes you can," he said, pulling the heavy book from her hand.She sat beside him, hiding her face in her shoulder but peeking up to see his reaction."What are you talking about? You look cute!"

"I look five," she said."Five and so uncomfortable."Pam's face was rounder in high school, her shoulders slumped, her eyes weighed down by dark circles.She looked as though she couldn't be bothered to smile, as though she were planning her escape.An observer, she hated being observed.

But still, she'd taken the time to curl her hair and put on lipgloss.Jim felt first a sharp pang of pity for Young Pam, then growing admiration for the woman sitting next to him.Timid as she'd been during their years of friendship, of course she'd been even more awkward in high school.She looked like one of the girls he would have teased when he was 18, trying to get her to talk to him.And he would have scared her off.

"I think you look cute."

"I'm glad somebody does.The tea's probably ready," she said, leading him into the kitchen.Two mugs with kittens on the sides sat on the counter, tea steeping in them."It's decaf.I wouldn't want to keep you up."

"Sure."

"What? I wouldn't," she said, her mind suddenly overwhelmed.She leaned against the wall and he leaned against the cabinets in her galley kitchen, the toes of their feet gently resting against each other.Talking stilled as they sipped their tea.

The flourescent light above them buzzed in the quiet apartment.Taking Jim home with her was supposed to be easier than parting in the restaurant parking lot.She'd dreamed him into her home so many times she'd forgotten he wouldn't know his way around, wouldn't know how to relax.The hostess in her began to worry that he wasn't having a good time.He slurped his tea and stared at her the one painting she'd put up – a pile of berries in a yellow bowl.Not her favorite work, she began to explain to him in her head.But it had felt joyful to create, paints mixed on a paper plate then her still life eaten, berry by berry, on a Saturday afternoon.Too quiet.  
Oh, my.

"I like this one.It's happy."She nodded, and she thought she might cry.  
"It's soul-food.I can see why it's in your kitchen."Maybe she didn't want her tea after all."How about we put on some music?" Jim suggested.  
Pam nodded quickly, putting down her tea and hurrying to her computer.

"I have choices," she said."What do you feel in the mood for?Barry White, Marvin Gaye, Prince?"

"Booty music, Pam?"

"Well...?"She clicked open her iTunes, stepping back to allow Jim to peruse.

"A lot of guys with guitars," Jim commented."I can play the guitar but I can't sing for crap."

"Put on something, Jim," Pam said, placing her hand on the middle on his back.His heart fluttered.All those stolen touches, when he seemed to touch her hand or arm by accident, when he'd summoned his nerves to reach out in the break room or the office or the parking lot, had led to her resting her hand on his back as he chose music for them in her apartment.  
He clicked the next song, whatever it was.

Simon and Garfunkel's "Scarborough Fair" sifted through the speakers as Jim stood again, Pam's hand never leaving him."I thought you'd pick a happy song," Pam said, but then her arms were around his neck and his lips were on hers and she felt him tangle in her hair.He stumbled back, the weight of her body throwing him off balance, a low chuckle rumbling from his throat.  
He hugged her tighter than he should have, feeling her breasts push against his chest, arms glorying in the firm realness of her body in his arms.

"Come with me," she said, leading him to her bedroom.As he stepped out of his shoes, she lit the lavendar candle on her dresser and removed her earrings.He appeared behind her in her mirror, their faces softened by candle light.He kissed the side of her neck and she watched herself being kissed, face swept by relief, eyes dark with love, smiled coaxed out of the sides of her mouth.There she was.She saw in her face the woman she'd always hoped she'd become.Good for you, kid, she thought, before Jim tossed her lightly on the bed. 


	6. Chapter 6

They kissed for quite some time. It was...nice, since there was no pressure there, just a longing to get to know each other again. Pam was immensely aware of everything about the kiss; Jim just got lost in it. She loved the way his hands wound in her hair and he loved how her thin fingers rested on his chest. Jim startled when Pam pulled away suddenly and sat up, hands on her head. It took him a few seconds to realize that Pam's cell phone was going off on the nightstand, a tinny calypso melody breaking the silence.

Pam pulled it towards her and looked at the front. "I'm so sorry, but it's my mom. I didn't think she'd call this late." The clock indicated it was well past one. "When did you ever have time to call her?" Jim asked, slightly amused, but obviously disappointed about the kiss breaking off. "I called her in the bathroom, right before we left. You should've heard how happy she was. I think she's been waiting for tonight just as long as I have."

"You want to talk to her, don't you"

"Kinda. It's just, she was so excited earlier and she wants to make sure I'm safe, that sort of thing. She would always wait up for me in high school." Pam got so joyful when talking about her mom that he couldn't really deny her this. It must be a girl thing, he thought, remembering his little sisters who were all giggles when it came to boys.

"Really, it's fine. Walk me to the door so I can kiss you goodnight"

They walked in silence hand in hand back to her front door. Before stepping out for the night, Jim grabbed her and pushed her up against the door frame. He was all action this time, kissing her with just enough force to leave her utterly breathless.

"Wow," Pam sighed.

"See you at work tomorrow, Beesly." Jim slipped out the door with a smile on his lips.

Scranton never looked pretty to Pam, but the next morning when she drove to work, everything about the town seemed brighter. It was a perfect morning, weather-wise. It was also a perfect morning for other reasons. She put on a shirt she hadn't ever worn before. It was a simple white shirt with a mandarin collar and v-neck and she got it as a gift from a friend. Not really my style, she figured at the time, but today she felt pretty. Oh so pretty, she hummed to herself. Showtunes, Pam? Really? she thought. Not the time. She turned up the radio a few notches and caught herself belting with The Supremes before long.

The Dunder Mifflin parking lot was partially full when she pulled up. For the first time in a very long while, she didn't mind the thought of eight hours at the front desk. Jim turned around for a brief second to smile at Pam. She waved and put down her bag by her chair. He stopped pestering Dwight and sauntered right up to reception.

"There's something different about you," she teased. "Did you get new shoes"

"Nope, the same shoes"

"Maybe it's a new tie. If it is, it's nice"

"Not even close"

"You rolled up your sleeves. That's something"

"Close, but not quite"

Kevin walked up to the copier and remarked, "Jim, why is your hair different? And where's Karen"

"A, because I felt like it. And B, I don't know. Pam, I think Kevin might be onto something about my hair"

"Your hair! Duh, how could I not have noticed," Pam said sarcastically. She lowered her voice a little, "It looks really good."

"Thanks." A tap of the desk and a handful of jelly beans and Jim was back to his desk.

Michael showed up for work about 30 minutes late. He looked frazzled, and his hair was all dishevelled in the back. There was something about the way his tie was a little loose that Pam did not want to think about why he was late. The phone rang and she picked up.

"Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam. I'll transfer you"

She hit Michael's extension and braced herself. "Michael, I've got Jan for you on line one"

"Blegh. I just saw her like 15 minutes ago"

"Well, she wants to talk to you, so what do you want me to do"

"Transfer her over. Hi, how's my little Jan Muffin this morning"

"Still me, Michael. Here's Jan."

Pam couldn't help but ask Michael why Jan called.

"Oh you know, she just wanted to talk. She...I don't know, she started crying again and she might have said something about wanting a baby, but then she hung up on me because it was time for The View"

Should not have bothered asking, thought Pam.

A morning of entering data into Excel usually went by painfully slow, and honestly, today's wasn't much different. The highlight was learning that Ryan would be going to New York. That would certainly explain Kelly's absence. When Ryan went into Michael's office, it was only a matter of about three minutes before Ryan stormed out yelling, "Michael, don't touch me"

Michael leaned against his doorway and looked at Pam. With a shrug of his shoulders, he stated, "The ones you love always hurt you in the end"

Not always, Michael, Pam wanted to reassure him, but he'd get over it.

Pam and Jim ate lunch in the break room together and about an hour later, he dropped a note off at her desk. "Read it," he prompted. She did so and started cracking up. "Yeah, I don't miss fifth grade one bit," she said.

The note was short, but to the point. "Will you go out with me tonight? Check yes or no." Beneath were two little boxes with yes and no. Pam checked one and wrote something at the bottom. She slid it over to Jim, who grinned.

"Well, I'm relieved to know we have a date tonight, but I'm curious as to why there was only a yes box underneath 'Will you meet me in the supply closet in ten minutes?'" Jim said.

"I don't think no is an option here," Pam replied and she leaned forward and made a little check mark in the lone yes box.

"Alright, I guess I have no choice," he sighed. "You are one powerful persuader, Pam."

Out of the corner of his eye, Jim saw Pam got up and headed towards the bathroom about five minutes later. The supply closet was in the hallway by the stairs going down to the warehouse. Jim followed suit. He found Pam sitting coyly on top of a couple boxes of paper. "It smells like Sharpies and cleaner fluid in here," Pam said in her most seductive voice.

"Intoxicating, isn't it?" Jim pulled her up by the hand and looked her in the eye. She moved her arms up around his neck. He leaned in and kissed her. Slowly at first, but then all the hunger and tension melted into one long, drawn out kiss. "How long have we been in here?" he murmured. She broke away and slid down against the wall. "I honestly don't know"

He sat down opposite from her and intertwined her left hand with his right. Pam picked up a small, silver object from beside her.

"Huh"

"What's that"

"It is a tiny fish earring"

"Who wears fish earrings"

"The key is that it's just one. The other one is a cat"

"Angela? You think Dwight and Angela were in here"

"Ew." She involuntarily shuddered. "Wait, you know about them"

Jim nodded and they both collapsed into laughter. "You know what, Pam? It's good to be back."


	7. Chapter 7

Pam knew they needed to get back to their desks but still she sat there, gazing into Jim's eyes as he gently stroked the palm of her hand with his thumb. How many times had Roy tried to persuade her to meet him in the back of the warehouse? The idea never appealed to her and she would refuse every time, telling Roy that they're not in high school anymore. But now what was she doing? She was sitting on the floor of a supply closet, hoping Jim will try to do more than just kiss her. She loved that Jim brought out this adventurous side of her. She smiled. 

"What?" Jim smiled back, turning his head slightly.

"Nothing," Pam answered playfully.

Sensing Jim wasn't going to try anything more, she stood up and reached for the door handle.

"We should probably get--"

Jim cut her off as he reached up and grabbed her by the waist and pulled her onto his lap.

"Hey!" Pam giggled and pretended to protest.

"Did you think you were going somewhere, Beesly?" Jim said as he wrapped his arms around her gently but securely.

Pam squirmed under Jim's embrace trying to break free. Her giggles turned into hearty laughs as Jim began tickling her around her waist.

"Stop!" Pam squealed. "Someone's gonna hear us!"

This only made Jim persist more.

Pam threatened, "You are SO going to pay for this!"

Pam's face was bright red and her eyes were filled with tears from laughing so hard. Sensing Jim's grip weakening, Pam maneuvered herself squarely on his lap, her legs straddling his. She grabbed his wrists and held them against his chest as she moved in closer.

"Now whatcha gonna do, Halpert?" She smiled, finally catching her breath.

Jim had no intention of resisting. Pam knew it too.

"Oh, you're no fun," Pam pouted, not quite being able to mask her smile.

Jim looked at Pam, her face still flushed and warm, and admired how radiant she looked.

He smiled and said, "Oh, I can be VERY fun, Pam."

Jim leaned forward, his arms still pinned against his chest and began kissing Pam's neck. She lifted her chin up and closed her eyes. The mood had quickly shifted. She let go of Jim's wrists and ran her fingers through his hair, sighing softly. Jim wrapped his arms around her and stroked her back as he began kissing down her neck to her collarbone. He stopped and gently ran his fingers over the top of her chest, just above the neckline of her shirt. He looked up into her eyes as he started unbuttoning each button slowly. After the third button, he looked down and saw soft, white skin peaking out from above a pink lace bra. He watched as her chest gently rose and fell to the rhythm of her breathing. He leaned in and kissed her chest as he finished unbuttoning her shirt. He then pushed the fabric away and ran his hands over her stomach, moving up until his hands gently grazed over her breasts. He could feel the firmness of her nipples through her bra and he wondered if Pam could feel what it was doing to him.

He then reached up and slid her blouse down off her shoulders. It fell behind her as Jim reached around and unhooked her bra.

"God, you're beautiful," Jim whispered, and her bra fell away from her body. The sight of her breasts overwhelmed him a little and he had to catch his breath.

Pam reached for Jim's hands and placed them on her. He gently caressed her and ran his thumbs over her nipples. Now she was the one trying to catch her breath. Jim slid his hands down to Pam's hips as he leaned forward and put his mouth on her nipples, slowly sliding his tongue around each one. Pam could feel Jim hard beneath her. She moved her knees farther apart, causing her skirt to raise up to above her hips. She crept in closer to Jim's body, positioning herself directly on top of him. Her body responded to the pressure she felt and she ached for Jim to be inside of her.

Despite their growing urgency for each other, neither one of them wanted their first time together to be in a supply closet. Maybe for future trysts, but not the first time. Jim spoke first.

"Pam," He said softly. "You have no idea how badly I want this right now."

"I think I have an idea," Pam said as she grinded her hips over Jim, only making his desire for her more evident.

"Oh, wow," He took a deep breath. "But listen, I think we should."

"Yeah, I know. We're going to see each other tonight, right? Let's stay at your place and order-in. I'll even cook you breakfast in the morning," Pam said as she kissed at Jim's neck and nibbled a little at his earlobe.

"Pam, you are amazing."

"You have no idea," she said as she stood up and began putting her bra and blouse back on.

Jim watched her as she got dressed. He absolutely adored her.

"What?" Pam noticed Jim staring.

"I love you, Pam."

Pam kneeled back down, fully clothed now, and kissed him.

"I love you too, Jim. I'm sorry I never told you sooner."

"I always knew you did."

"Oh you did, did you?" Pam laughed.

"You've wanted me since the day you started. Don't deny it," Jim teased.

They laughed together but stopped suddenly when they heard a noise outside the door. They saw the door handle move slightly then heard Dwight's voice.

"Alright, who locked this door?" He paused. "Is somebody in there? I can hear you breathing. I have the ears of a mongoose."

Pam looked over at Jim and mouthed, "A mongoose?" They stifled a laugh.

"Come out immediately or I will be forced to break this door down. And don't think I won't do it."

Using his best martial arts skills, Dwight posed with his hands up, elbows bent, and right leg cocked in a position to kick the door down.

Pam looked at Jim as if to ask "Wwhat should we do?" Jim smiled at Pam. She didn't know what he was going to do, but she felt reassured. They stood up, Jim unlocked the door and they both casually walked out.

Dwight stood up straight and looked at them with a sinister pleasure.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

"Hi, Dwight," Jim replied as he stood with his hands in his pocket, not looking at all concerned.

Clearly disappointed that Jim and Pam weren't acting at all worried that they were caught, Dwight continued, "You know, you two, as I am the honorary volunteer corporal in charge of assisting all activities involving security and otherwise, you know it's my duty to report this serious malfeasance to Michael."

He narrowed his eyes and grinned. He's been waiting for a long time to catch Jim. And now that day had come.

"Yeah, before you do that," Jim began, "I was wondering if you knew who this belonged to?"

He motioned to Pam and she quickly displayed on her hand the fish earring she had found on the floor.

Dwight stared at the earring and as if he forgot Jim and Pam were there, he smiled and took the earring from her. He knew he would be rewarded greatly for finding it. Suddenly he looked up, pursed his lips and resigned himself to the realization that he'd have to let the perpetrators go free in order to conceal his own love affair.

"You're free to go. THIS time. But I'll be watching you. That is all."

"Thanks, Dwight," Jim said as he put his hand on Dwight's shoulder. Dwight quickly pushed it away.

Jim smiled and motioned his hand forward.

"After you, Beesly."

"Why thank you," Pam replied with a slight curtsy.

Dwight watched them as they walked away. He could hear them laughing.


	8. Chapter 8

This was turning out to be a good day, a very good day, Jim thought as he made his way back to his desk. There was his date with Pam after work, the second in as many nights. Plus, he had something to hold over Dwight's head, which he would use to his full advantage. 

I wonder if I could get him to do my laundry for a month like he did Michael's, he thought. Or I could make him my butler.

He filed the thought away for the time being. There'd be plenty of time to torture Dwight in retaliation for the torture that was being Dwight's co-worker. Jim's thoughts turned to that evening as he logged onto his e-mail, skipped past a dozen or so sales-related messages, Viagara offers and lewd forwards from Michael.

Near the bottom he spotted the return address: and clicked on it, ignoring the rest.

Hey :-) Can't wait until tonight, if only so I can tell you all about Michael's love life. The "little lady" has called five times today, twice to ask him how the TV remote works, once to ask him where he keeps his vodka and two more times crying about something shed' seen on Oprah. It's not pretty. I think he's gonna crack.

Jim swiveled 180 degrees and peered in at Michael, who was holding his head in his hands while a James Blunt song emanated from his computer speakers. He turned back to the screen.

By the way, I have a surprise for you before you leave. You can pick it up at reception at 5:15.

Rare was the day he didn't make a beeline for the door by 4:58, but he was intrigued. Besides, he admitted to himself, he'd stay here all night if she told him to. Of course, that would mean tripping over Creed and possibly Dwight if he wasn't careful.

"Attention people," a sullen-faced Michael announced from the doorway of his office. "Staff meeting in the conference room in 20 minutes. Attendance is mandatory."

"It's 4:15, Michael," Oscar protested. "What is this about?"

"I am not working late tonight, no way," Stanley chimed in.

"Shut-shut it," Michael countered. "This will be a quickie. That's what she said...And then she moved in and ruined my life."

The entire office stared as Michael slumped against the door jamb.

"Are you OK Michael?" Pam asked, glancing nervously at Jim as she did.

"No, Pam, I'm not alright, alright?" he said. "My life's a mess and women are to blame."

"You're really going to pin it all on them?" Jim quipped.

The dig went over Michael's head.

"We will be meeting in 20, no 15 minutes now, to discuss workplace romances and why they will not be tolerated ever in this office so long as I am Regional Manager," Michael said, adding as he turned back toward his desk, "And we know I'm not going anywhere."

"What the hell is that all about?""

Pam shot off the e-mail before Michael could slam his door. Jim just looked up at her and shrugged.

The gang filed into the conference room a little while later. Stanley checked his watch. Kevin popped a handful of M&Ms into his mouth. Angela and Dwight approached at the same time, glanced at one another and, as they were about to enter, he turned abruptly toward the ficus tree and began inspecting its leaves as she went in and took a seat.

Smooth, Jim thought. How had he ever missed that relationship?

"OK people, I promise we're gonna gang-bang this and get you all out on time so you can get home to your miserable homes and miserable families," Michael said.

Looks of disgust flashed across nearly every face in the room but Angela's, which kind of looked that way anyway. Jim raised his hand.

"Question: What if our homes and families aren't miserable?" he asked without waiting for Michael to acknowledge him.

"Then you must be single," Michael said, not noticing just how close Jim and Pam were sitting to one another.

"Interoffice relationships are a cancer in the workplace, destroying morale, hurting productivity, stealing all the covers and drinking all your booze," Michael began. "Therefore, corporate has mandated that all relationships among employees within the same branch be declared null and void by 5 p.m. today."

Jim, Pam, Dwight and Angela all looked alarmed. Kelly burst out crying and ran from the room. Toby stood up.

"Michael, that's not true," he said, then turning to the group. "People, if you're involved in an office relationship that you've declared to HR, you're fine. There's no problem."

"Oh really, Toby?" Michael said. "Is that why your wife pays you alimony and you only see your daughter once a week at a Chuck E. Cheese with a court-appointed mediator present?"

"That's not a mediator, that's my girlfriend," Toby said. "And how'd you know we go to Chuck E. Cheese?"

"The point, people," Michael said, "is that if you date a co-worker, she will lose her mind, then her job, move in with you and make your life hell. And that is not good for the company."

"So there is no directive from corporate to end all office romances then," Jim cut in.

"Well, no, not as such," Michael replied. "But that doesn't mean that--"

"I am out of here," Stanley said, heading for the door and prompting everyone else to start making their way out.

"People, I am not kidding," Michael said. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Jim was still shaking his head 10 minutes later as he packed up his things into his briefcase. Glancing across the office he spotted Pam at the fax machine, apparently struggling with a paper jam. Throwing his jacket over his shoulder, he walked up behind her.

"Mind if I help you with that Miss?" he said, affecting a gentlemanly tone.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "It's just the invoice the paper mill requires before it will process the week's paper orders."

"Well, so long as it isn't anything urgent," he said.

"Shutup," she cut him off. "I want to give you your surprise."

She stepped behind the reception desk and fished out a little box from her handbag.

It was a box maybe the size of a pint glass, wrapped in garish orange, brown and pink-striped wrapping paper with a pink and orange bow.

"You know the 1970s called," he said. "They want their gift wrap back."

"Just open it before I take it back," Pam said, too giddy to make the threat sound real.

He stripped away the paper to reveal a cardboard box with the logo of a local trophy maker, one Jim actually recognized from his Little League days. He was definitely curious now. Opening the box, he indeed saw that it was a trophy inside, and the figure on it looked vaguely familiar. When he pulled it out he saw why. It was a Dundie.

The figure was that of a businessman holding a briefcase. But the plaque at the bottom told the story. Etched in bronze, it read "Most Patient Holder of an Office Crush -- James Halpert".

"You were in Stamford for last year's Dundies, which we had to hold in the warehouse since Chili's wouldn't have us back," Pam explained.

"You mean they wouldn't have you back, don't you?" he said, making a gesture like he was drinking from an invisible bottle.

She just smiled.

"I love it," he said. "This one definitely goes in the case above my bed. So, I"ll pick you up at 7?"

"Great," Pam said. "Maybe I can put it in the case for you."


End file.
